


Broken Wings

by pherryt



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Divergent, Hurt!Cas, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season 9 divergent, Sfb, dean asks him to stay, fallen!cas, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 05:04:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11616465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Sam succeeded - Crowley's cured and the Gates of Hell are closed and somehow he's still alive. It should be cause to celebrate, but all Dean can think of is getting back to the bunker as fast as he can. He's gotta find out if Cas is okay.





	Broken Wings

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this for my friend Li who - at the time - had still not seen anything past the season 8 finale. She wanted Destiel, hurt/comfort to the prompt "Why the hell are you bleeding?" and I took advantage of that to do a divergence for series 9. How a lot of us, i think, wish it had gone. it also showcases slightly a headcanon i plan on using in a bigger story if i can get the details worked out.

The sky would have been beautiful…if Dean hadn’t known what the bright, falling streaks of light  _really_ were.

Helping a slightly unsteady, but surprisingly alive  _(thank god!_ ), Sam to the Impala with the newly cured demon’s help (Crowley was eager to make amends in any way he could, and Dean was inclined to let him), Dean couldn’t help but send up a prayer, uncertain if Cas could even hear him.  

_Cas, man, tell me you’re all right? Please. You’ve gotta be all right._

Getting everyone settled, Dean turned the keys in the ignition, but continued to stare out the windshield, wincing at every white-blue streak that hit the ground. Sam looked over at him in concern and sympathy. “I’m sure he’s okay. How many times have we thought him dead or gone and he’s always come back?”

Dean cleared his throat and nodded, refusing to look at his brother. “Yeah, I know. You’re right.” Dean got the Impala moving, grateful that Crowley didn’t attempt to reassure him as well. After all, this was all his fault. If hadn’t been digging after the Angel Tablet in the first place, none of this would have happened.

The drive back was silent, heavy. Dean couldn’t even bear the thought of the familiar tunes that normally soothed him. All he could think was that he had to get back to the bunker as fast as possible. Cas would find them there.

If he was okay.

 _God, if you’re still out there, listening, please let him be okay._  Dean knew the prayer would be useless. God hadn’t answered any prayers in who knew how long, but his phone had remained silent, and if Cas could have, he would have called him, called Dean.

With every mile, Dean felt more hope and fear pressing in against him. By the time he pulled the Impala to a stop in front of the bunker, he was filled with dread.  He looked towards the door of the bunker, hoping against hope that he’d see a tan trenchcoat standing before it. A dark head of hair tilted at him.

But he saw nothing and his heart sank.

“Dean,” Sam started, “If they fell, Cas might not have his wings anymore. It might just take him a little longer to get here – “

With a growl, Dean shoved out of the car and slammed the door shut. He hurried away from his well-meaning brother and to the front of the bunker, rounding to the stairs that led to the slightly underground door –

 - and came to a shocked halt.

There  _was_  a tan trench coat against the door, but it was slumped to the ground and covered in blood. Dean’s heart stopped and then started again when he saw the slight rise and fall of the body before him. He nearly tripped in his hurry to reach Cas.

“Cas? Cas! Shit, shit, shit! Are you okay?” Dean knew it was a stupid question. Of course Cas wasn’t okay, but he couldn’t help it, his mouth running away from him as he fell to his knees beside the apparently heavily injured Angel and carefully reached out for him. “Fuck, Cas, why the hell are you bleeding? There’s blood  _everywhere_! Why aren’t you healing yourself?” Another stupid question. In his head, Dean already knew the answer.

Cas’s head inched up slightly with a groan and his eyes squinted at Dean. “Dean?” his gravelly voice was broken and low.

Sam reached them then, as Dean ran his hands over Castiel, checking him over. Sam pulled out the key and got the bunker open, the lights turned back on  and gestured Crowley in, before turning to offer Dean his help in getting Cas inside.

Refusing his brothers help, Dean made to help Cas to stand, but the first touch to the Angel’s back made Castiel cry out in pain and Dean recoiled.

Exchanging worried looks, Dean didn’t turn Sam’s help down the second time, and together the managed to get Cas inside, down the stairs and through the bunker to Dean’s room.

Sam had halted in front of one of the other empty rooms but Dean had shaken his head. “No, Sam. I’m not taking my eyes off him again.”

Having learned from their first mistake, Dean didn’t bother attempting to lay Cas down on his back, but maneuvered him onto his front, stripping him down to his boxers and wincing at every cut and gash and bruise the Angels skin revealed.

Cas passed out before they even made it to the bed.

“Dean, his injuries – “

“I know, Sam!” Dean cut him off, then covered his face briefly and forced himself to calm down.  “We’ll deal with it later. Just…get me our first aid kit okay?”

“Already on it,” Sam said quietly, slipping out of the open door. Together, the brothers cleaned and stitched and bandaged every wound they found. Cas woke up briefly a few times with a groan or a whimper. Dean hesitantly gave him painkillers, vowing to keep careful watch over his usage, remembering all too well the future that Zachariah had once shown him.

The Angels had fallen. Cas had been working on a spell to close Heaven but obviously he’d been tricked. He must have fallen too. But what did that mean? Did that make them human? Was Cas human now? Was that why he was unable to heal himself?

Sam left Dean alone with Cas, saying something about attempting to calm down a very freaked out Kevin. Dean didn’t even look up as Sam left. He just stared at the Angel in his bed with a heavy heart. Relief that Castiel was here, that he was still alive flushed through Dean, but at what cost? He itched to be closer, but he restrained himself. It was clear Cas was in agony. He didn’t need Dean making it worse.

Instead, he hitched his chair as close as he could get to the bed without falling into it and kept vigil over his best friend, but at some point, he must have fallen asleep. Dean jerked in his chair, nearly falling out of it, woken by a strangled sound beside him. He whipped his head around and down to find Castiel awake and curled in on himself, shaking, tears rolling down his face and his chapped lips suffering even more abuse as the Angel bit them, trying not to make a sound.

With a quick glance at the clock, Dean realized Cas was due for another dose of medicine. “Shit, Cas…” he stumbled to his feet and fumbled for the meds and a bottle of water. “Here, these will help.” Dean held the pills up to his lips, assisting Cas in swallowing them down, holding the bottle for him. Water dribbled down his face and Dean gently wiped it up.

“Dean, I –“ Cas’s voice stuttered and hitched and Dean hurried to reach out a soothing hand to him.

“Sshhhh…Cas, take it easy and try not to move too much, okay man? I don’t know what happened but you’re a mess, especially your back.” Dean swallowed, trying to keep an even and calm tone. The twin gashes going down each shoulder blade were long and deep and nasty looking.

And he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what had caused them.

“Did…did Sam…?” Cas fought to speak and Dean crept closer, his hip hitching up onto the bed, Cas’s hand clutching at Dean’s arm.

“Yeah, yeah, he did it. Gates of Hell closed and he’s  _alive!_ I mean, I don’t know how, but he is. Now all we gotta do is get you better, okay?”

“I failed…” Cas whispered, his eyes closing.

“It’s not the end of the world, Cas,” Dean said. “You’re here, you’re safe. We got your back, okay?” Dean straightened up, tried to get up on his feet and let Cas sleep when the Angel pulled at him with surprising strength, a sob ripping out.

“Don’t – don’t go. Dean, please,” Cas choked out around the sob. Dean’s heart ached for everything Cas must be going through, all the pain – both physical and emotional – and against his better judgement, Dean kicked off his boots and slid into the bed beside him, pulling Cas as gently into him as he could, tucking the Angel’s head under his chin.

“I’m here, Cas. I’ll stay, as long as you want me.” Dean murmured the words into Cas’s ears, closing his eyes and running his fingers ever so gently through the Angels – ex-angel, he corrected himself – hair. He hummed a soft song, not even thinking about what he was doing, and increment by increment, Cas relaxed against him, the sobs quieting down and the shuddering slowing.

“Always…always wanted, Dean, always wanted to stay,” the words were so soft, Dean almost hadn’t heard them, wasn’t sure he was meant to hear them. “As long as it was with you. I think…I could truly face anything, as long as it’s with you.”

“Then I’ll never leave you alone, Cas, you got that?” Dean swore. Cas’s fingers tightened where they clutched at Dean and he nodded his head against Dean’s chest, bumping into his chin gently.

They said nothing else, but drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. The days ahead would be hard, Dean knew. But he’d do whatever he could to help Cas heal, and to adjust to being human. 

Dean had almost lost him today. Had lost him more than once and it had been devastating every time. He couldn’t let this chance slip away on him again, the way he had every other time Cas came back like a miracle.

And this time, Dean was determined that he would finally admit he loved Castiel.


End file.
